A/N: In a different fic, I referred to the B/B relationship as the "elephant in the room," and became attached to the concept of this huge, unackowledged thing between them. (You know what I mean. The thing that makes you want to slap them both across the face and scream 'What is wrong with you!!??" And then slap Booth on the butt for good measure). Who better to point this out than their friendly neighborhood British therapist? Oh, I would so have a heyday if these two were my clients:-) R&R!

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"It's not that we don't believe you haven't helped us…you have. We just feel that this is as far as we can go. There is no more resolution."

Dr. Wyatt raised his eyebrows. "I see. So what has brought you to this particular conclusion?"

Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan glanced at each other, trying to decide who should speak. Brennan took the initiative first.

"We've worked on our communication. And we've made efforts to understand one another's motivations and points of view. But there is nothing you can do, or that we can do, to change the fact that we are…incompatible human beings." She shrugged. "All there is left is to accept it."

"Hmm. And you feel the same, Agent Booth?"

Booth looked like he would say just about anything to get out of this uncomfortable position. "Yeah. I suppose."

"Well." Dr. Wyatt leaned back. "I have to tell you that I don't agree with your assessment of the situation."

For the first time, Brennan looked a bit unsure of herself. She had thought she had made a pretty strong case for ending therapy. "Why not?"

"When you say that you and Agent Booth are 'incompatible human beings,' that to me implies that you are incapable of functioning together in any capacity. That you are unable, even, to work together. And that isn't the case, is it? Oftentimes, you work together quite well. In fact, sometimes your differences complement one another beautifully."

He was right. Brennan bit her lip. They were going to be stuck coming here once a week for the rest of their lives.

"Don't think that I don't hear your concern, Dr. Brennan. We may, in actuality, be at an impasse…but that doesn't mean it is impossible to resolve. What do you suppose we should do about it?"

Both partners looked down towards the floor. Clueless.

Dr. Wyatt sighed. Working with these two was one of the more enjoyable challenges of his career, but that didn't mean he didn't occasionally want to strangle them. "Would it be acceptable if I self-disclose just a bit? Then, perhaps, we can relate it back to our situation here and…use it as a metaphor or some such nonsense."

They both nodded eagerly, their intentions transparent. Yes, Dr. Wyatt. Please self-disclose. And please do it for as long as possible so that we can take the focus off of ourselves.

He regarded them seriously. "First, I must confess to you…that I was once a terrible therapist." He paused.

Agent Booth looked at him interestedly. "Really? Was that recently enough that the F.B.I. can get some of its money back?"

Ignoring him, he went on. "Please don't misunderstand me…I've always, I believe, been very perceptive about people. My tutors and mentors lauded me for my ability to join my clients' worlds, while still retaining a perspective objective enough to be insightful about their struggles. I always recognized their issues quickly, whether or not they recognized them themselves, and I eagerly attempted to help them work on those issues.

Booth's voice was dry. "Your modesty about being a terrible therapist is overwhelming."

He held back a chuckle. "Well you can imagine my surprise when most of my brilliant insights fell on my clients' deaf ears. No matter how eloquently I explained to them the roots of their difficulties, and how to resolve them, they most often looked at me as if I'd gone mad. I knew I was right about these things…my mentors agreed…but my clients fought me. Many of them never came back."

"So your assessment of that must be that your clients were in denial," Brennan stated matter-of-factly.

"No. That would imply that they were doing something wrong. As I told you, I was the problem."

"If they were paying you to help them with their problems, and then wouldn't listen to you when you did that, I would say it was denial," Booth insisted. "Either that, or a lack of appreciation."

"It would have certainly improved my self-esteem to believe that, Agent Booth. But it wouldn't have helped my clients. All my mentors agreed that it was my fault."

Two pairs of eyes stared at him for a moment. "Okay, I'll bite," Dr. Brennan finally relented. "Why was it your fault?"

"Because I was ignoring one of the first and foremost rules of therapy, which is the following: As important as helping people recognize the truth, is making sure they are ready to recognize it."

Again, blank looks. Then, in unison: "I don't get it."

Dr. Wyatt smiled. "You see, my friends, my timing was off. To me, my clients' issues were glaring, obvious; they were the metaphorical elephant in the room. But I had failed to recognize that, for them, the elephant had been in the room so long they no longer realized it was there. It was just like the walls or the floor or the ceiling. They walked around it, cleaned up after it…but they no longer saw it. It wasn't denial on their parts. It was simple lack of recognition. So when I pointed it out to them, asked them to work on it…they had no inkling of what I was talking about. So, of course, they couldn't work on it.

"So, that was my mistake. Instead of first asking myself, how do we deal with this elephant?, I should have been asking, what can we do to make that elephant more visible?

"Perhaps that might be your homework for next week. Ask yourselves and each other the question, what is your elephant? And I'll look forward to hearing your hypotheses."

Seconds ticked by, and nobody spoke. The next words, from Dr. Brennan, were filled with incredulity.

"Let me make sure I'm understanding you. You want us…to think about the nature of an invisible elephant…that you already see…but we don't?"

He let her words register, then nodded. "Yes."

Agent Booth looked as dumbfounded as his partner, and he slowly shook his head. "No offense, Doc. But I'm with Bones here. That is possibly the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

"So both of you agree that it is the 'dumbest thing you ever heard?'" They nodded. "Well then! More proof that you are not incompatible human beings. So let us continue to think about what is preventing you from seeing eye-to-eye then, shall we?" He clapped his hands together, pleased. "Good session. I will see you next week." He gestured towards the door. Looking dazed, the partners stood and allowed themselves to be ushered outside.

Once they left, Dr. Wyatt poured himself another cup of tea, and sat to write his progress note. His last line was the following: "Excellent progress. Clts. moved from stage 1: precontemplation to stage 2: contemplation." A glance through his blinds showed him that his two clients still sat their in their car. Their brows were furrowed and they were looking at each other, unspeaking and obviously confused for the moment. He could practically hear the elephant trumpeting in the distance.

It wasn't Dr. Wyatt's job to figure it out for them. The good news was, his clients were intelligent individuals and would figure things out eventually. They just could use some assistance navigating through this particular jungle.

"Gordon Wyatt: Safari Ranger," he said to himself. He liked the way it sounded, and felt confident in his day's work. It brought them one step closer to taming the elephant in the room.